


bad days & ice cream

by statisticallysignificant



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, The Ice Cream AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:49:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statisticallysignificant/pseuds/statisticallysignificant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“we both reached for the last container of our favorite flavor of ice cream and no matter how hot you are, you're not walking away with that peanut butter crunch ice cream.” </p><p>or, the Ice Cream AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	bad days & ice cream

Today was a bad day. A really bad day. First, she'd slept through her alarm and had to skip breakfast to quickly get to the bus stop, only to miss the bus to work by literally thirty seconds (she could only watch in horror as the bus driver ignored her pleas and yells and drove off). Which then meant she had to wait in the rain for another thirty minutes for the next bus. She had then subsequently arrived thirty minutes late to work and gotten yelled at by her cranky boss. If that wasn’t bad enough, she had to then deal with the most infuriating customers at the gallery, including that stupid elitist Cage Wallace (yes, he was paying her way too much to paint some abstract mural but even that couldn't excuse his pompous attitude and crude comments). 

When she'd finally closed shop for the day, eager to arrive home and curl up on her couch, she realized that, in her rush to get out the door in the morning, she'd forgotten to bring her house keys. Which meant she was locked out until her roommate Raven Reyes got home (who was apparently out partying and way too preoccupied with sucking face with someone to come home and unlock the door for her poor roommate). And knowing Raven, that meant she wouldn't be home until 1 am at the earliest (potentially with a boy or girl in tow). 

So that meant Clarke had a few hours to kill and at this point, she just had the overarching need for ice cream-- her comfort food, and hell, with the way this day had gone, she sure needed a whole lot of comfort. And perhaps it was slightly tragic and telling of the state of her life that she was walking at 9 pm to the nearest convenience store with the full intention of buying her favorite flavor of ice cream and loitering outside the store to consume the said ice cream, but frankly, at this point, she couldn't bring herself to care. 

To her relief, she finally found a convenience store still open (she realized that it looked pretty sketchy, but the thought of ice cream was enough for her to ignore that). With a huge grin, she all but ran to the store, opening the door with eagerness. 

Once inside, she quickly spotted the frozen section and walked straight towards it, eyeing the peanut butter crunch ice cream she could see beckoning her. But before she could grab it, in a cruel twist of fate, a girl with brown hair had cut straight in front of her and grabbed the the ice cream seconds before she could. 

At first, Clarke didn't care, but as soon as she realized it was the last peanut butter crunch (and hell, this day was already bad enough without her settling for mint chocolate chip or some other lackluster flavor), she was absolutely infuriated at the nerve of that girl. Didn't the girl see that Clarke was headed straight towards that ice cream? 

Before the brunette could escape with her precious ice cream, Clarke tapped her shoulder. The girl turned around, her green eyes wide in confusion and her brunette hair in delicate curls angled perfectly round her face, and Clarke could swear her breath got caught in her throat. Clarke remembered thinking that it had to be illegal how attractive this girl was, even when she was dressed in a loose gray V-neck shirt and jeans and staring at her with an infuriating smirk. 

Clarke must have been ogling for a while as the brunette arched her eyebrows in smugness, “Something you wanted?” 

With that, Clarke remembered just why she was pissed off at the girl (after all, she certainly hadn't stopped the girl to ogle her). “Yes,” Clarke stated in a clipped tone, gesturing to the ice cream in the brunette’s hands, “That should be mine.”

“Does it have your name on it?” the girl questioned in a infuriating matter-of-fact tone. At Clarke's silence (which was rare in itself because Clarke Griffin always had something to say but perhaps Clarke was just a bit stunned by this annoying brunette), the girl added in a self-satisfied manner, “That's what I thought.” 

The brunette had just turned around and was about to leave when Clarke called out, “Wait!” surprising even herself when the word came out of her mouth. 

“What now?” the other girl turning around, asked in an exasperated tone, her arms crossed in clear exasperation. Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat, again seemingly lost for words, and the other girl, convinced that Clarke clearly had nothing more to say to her, was just about to turn about around with a roll of the eyes. 

Before Clarke could really think the entire thing through and as a result of what Clarke could only identify as panic, she blurted out, “Are you free this evening?” (Maybe Clarke asked her in hopes that she could just at least some of that peanut butter crunch ice cream or maybe it had more to do with the girl but Clarke didn't really want to dwell on _that_ possibility). 

“I actually have a date,” the girl said, pausing as she saw Clarke's rather dismayed face. “With my couch and Netflix, and of course, ice cream,” she continued, a small smile on her face, “But you're welcome to join, if you'd like.”

Clarke found herself nodding (even though she really realized that going home with a complete stranger she'd met in a shady convenience store was not her finest idea, especially when she had wanted to kill the said stranger just a few minutes ago). Still, Clarke couldn't stop the smile from appearing on her face as she walked with the other girl to the checkout line. “I'm Clarke, by the way.”

“Lexa,” the other girl quipped, with a small smile that made Clarke’s heart to beat way too fast. As soon as Lexa paid for the ice cream, she gestured for Clarke to follow her, ice cream protectively in her hand. Giving Clarke a hard look, Lexa flatly commented, “You know, as cute as you are, you’re still not getting any of this ice cream.” 

And Clarke found that she could care less as long as she was with Lexa. 

(Although Clarke would later find out that Lexa’s colder-than-ice-cream exterior was truly only for show when she handed Clarke a spoon and the ice cream the second they arrived at her flat).

**Author's Note:**

> if i'm going to be honest, i have no clue if peanut butter crunch is indeed an ice cream flavor (if it isn't, there needs to be). anyways, i hope you enjoyed this short lil one shot and if you did, please give it a kudos and/or leave a comment. thanks for reading!


End file.
